Just Like Old Times
by Kachanski
Summary: Sirius finds something he can do, something which helps ease the feeling of uselessness. It is, he reflects bitterly, just like old times, but there's just the two of them.


**I'm really belting them out, aren't I? I had a night of extreme creativity and wrote about three stories at once. ^^ Well, theres not much else I can whitter on about with this, excpet yes I know that people can apparate and disapparate in Grumauld Place, but for the sake of the story it needed to be changed! and it is possible that the arrngement were modified later.**

**I hope you enjoy this, reviews create love! *hint hint***

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The basement in 12 Grimauld Place was perfect for their needs. Built into the very foundations of the house it had sturdy stone walls and was practically empty with a high ceiling. A small window, almost at the top of the wall allowed a little light to filter in, but was covered in iron bars, so nothing could break in or out and the only exit was a thick strong door which could be locked and charmed shut until morning.

Sirius Black opened the door and lit the end of his wand, lighting the cold basement. "Well…" He trailed off helplessly.

His companion gave him a reassuring smile. "It's perfect. Thank you." With only the slightest of hesitations he ducked down through the low doorway, lighting his own wand.

Sirius made an abortive movement forward. "Remus…" He stopped when the others head turned towards him expectantly and shook his head. "It's nothing."

And it was. What was it he could say to support the werewolf through his monthly ordeal? 'It'll be okay'? How many times had he heard that before? 'I'll be there for you'? A cowardly lie. He would be sitting upstairs, useless.

Remus seemed to sense what Sirius was thinking because he patted him on the shoulder, making the smaller man jump. "This is nothing new. I'm used to it." A sad little smile crossed his pale face. "Don't feel you have to do anything for me. You've done more than enough already."

Sirius snorted as Remus turned and walked down the stairs into the basement. Typical Remus. Noble, self effacing, 'don't feel you need to do anything for me' Remus. He hadn't changed a bit from that day in their second year when he had shrunk back from the three of them, looking like he was going to cry and promising to keep away from them in future when they had confronted him about being a werewolf. He still got that half terrified look in his eyes sometimes, more often recently, especially after the new legislation about werewolves had been bought in. With one final look into the barely lit room Sirius closed the door and whispered the charm to lock it.

The first howl was more human than wolf and Sirius's hand tightened around his mug, his knuckles whitening at the shriek of pain and anguish. It had been years since he had heard that sound but it still twisted his stomach and wrenched his heart to know that it was his friend making those sounds.

The next howl was louder and seemed to reverberate through the whole house. Sirius stared fixedly at the newspaper in front of him, seeing nothing. He idly wondered if Remus still bit and tore at himself in frustration like he used to, but the thought of Remus clawing at himself in that dark room was sickening and he tried to push the thought from his head.

The third howl, accompanied by a heavy thump and shrieks of 'filthy half-breed werewolves' from the portrait in the hall was more than Sirius could take. He hated having to sit around and do nothing when the people he loved needed help. He hated the helpless, claustrophobic feeling he got at times like these, locked up in this ruin of a house with only Kreacher and the paintings for company, having to listen to his best friend suffer.

Leaping up he strode down the hall, his expression as dark as his name. "Shut it!" He snarled at the screaming painting, casting a silencing charm on it. Then, deviating only to grab a blanket he made his way to the basement door. He probably hadn't thought this through properly, he mused, listening to the low growls coming from the other side, but then he rarely did. He was a man of action. Without any further thought about potential mauling and death, and dismissing a small niggling thought at the back of his head, he appararted into the basement, quickly transforming into a huge black dog.

As he gazed up at the fully transformed werewolf in front of him he really hoped that it remembered him as a friend. Even though werewolves wouldn't attack animals, if it found him irritating it wouldn't hesitate to slap him out of the way, and he had a feeling that hitting those stone walls wouldn't be pleasant. He needn't have worried. The wolf regarded him balefully for a moment before, apparently having decided he wasn't a threat, ignoring him completely and launching itself at the stone walls, its sharp claws scoring deep marks into the stone. In apparent frustration at the lack of effect that its actions were having the wolf snarled and reared up, revealing ragged wounds on its side and stomach, and began to rake its chest with those vicious claws.

Without a second thought Sirius bounded up to the huge creature and, resisting the temptation to grab its limbs in his jaws, (he had learned that lesson painfully years ago) he barked warningly. At the sound the wolf stopped scratching itself and bristled, snarling as he approached slowly. When Sirius got close enough he licked the creature's bloody muzzle, a familiar gesture which he hoped it would remember. He was, to tell the truth, a little worried. He had never been cooped up with the werewolf in such a small space before and didn't know how it would react. To his surprise it settled down quietly, allowing him to clean the wounds on its side. As he licked the thick, matted fur Sirius felt an ache grow in his chest. It reminded him of his time at Hogwarts, and the times he James and Peter had spent with Remus as a wolf, earning its trust and exploring the grounds. Now where were they? In a cold wet basement with only each other left.

Without thinking Sirius shuffled closer to the wolf as the realisation finally dawned that it was all he had at the moment, the last piece of an irretrievable past which could be so easily lost. The wolf didn't move as he moved closer and he wondered if the wolf realised this too. Werewolves weren't unintelligent and Remus's pain was the wolf's too. Even s vicious creature such as itself needed company and companionship. Wolves were pack animals.

The two canines spent the rest of the night together, only separated when the wolf became restless and prowled around the room, growling softly. Sirius made sure it didn't throw itself against any more walls or hurt itself, calming the wild creature when it became too aggravated.

When Sirius woke Remus was once again human, curled up beside him, naked and shivering in the cold. Gently Sirius laid the blanket he had bought with him over the sleeping form, taking care not to catch the material on the gashes in his side, before settling down to wait for the exhausted man to wake.

After a short while he did wake, slowly stirring and raising his head, blinking blearily at Sirius, who, for want of anything better to say, gave a cheery little wave and said "Morning."

Obviously not fully awake Remus gave him a confused look. "Sirius? What?" He looked pale and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes, which were still blurred with exhaustion and a good measure of pain, although he bore it well, as he had always done. Sirius knew that he would need to spend the rest of the day, and if Sirius could keep him down, the next too, sleeping it off.

"I decided to keep you company."

"That was dangerous" Remus tried to admonish him, but the Animagus could tell that his heart wasn't in it. "What if I'd caught you before you transformed?"

Sirius bared his teeth in a very canine grin. "But you didn't, did you?"

The werewolf sighed and shifted, wincing. Eventually he turned back to Sirius, his expression a mixture of resignation and amusement. "Thank you."

Sirius nodded, scrambling to his feet and helping his friend to stand. "You look awful." He commented.

An unexpected smile crossed Remus's face and he laughed at the old ritual. "I've looked worse." He replied, putting on the fresh set of clothes he had bought with him, carefully manoeuvring the shirt so that it didn't rub against his newly acquired wounds with a practiced ease which made Sirius wince.

Eager to get out of the dismal basement Sirius moved to the door. "The door can only be unlocked from the outside" he supplied "So I'll just disapparate and unlock it and let you out." Remus nodded and Sirius closed his eyes, getting ready.

Nothing happened.

The dark haired man cracked his eyes open to see Remus watching him expectantly. "Well?" The werewolf asked.

Sirius frowned. "It didn't work" At that moment the niggling memory which had been lurking at the back of his mind finally surfaced and he groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" asked Remus, looking concerned.

Sirius looked up at his friend balefully "I forgot. Moody said that the wards were going up today." When Remus's face remained blank he continued. "To stop people apparating into or disapparating about the house…"

An expression of comprehension dawned slowly on the taller mans face. "So we're stuck? Good grief Sirius…" He trailed off with an expression of strained patience which Sirius knew so well from his days at school, but he also detected a twinkle of amusement in the man's tired eyes as he settled down against the wall, getting ready for a long wait.

It was indeed a long time before anyone heard the frantic banging and shouts coming from the basement, and Sirius did briefly wonder where everyone thought he and Remus had gone, especially since he wasn't supposed to leave the house. It was even longer before anyone let him forget his blunder, especially Remus, who let him know in no uncertain terms that he didn't appreciate being locked in a cold, wet basement for most of the morning.

They clung to it like a lifeline though. Although he knew that Remus wouldn't admit it, Sirius knew that the werewolf wanted the company during his changes and always obliged, no matter how much the other complained and how many reasons he came up with as to why he should be alone, even staying with him on the nights where Snape made the wolfsbane potions. To Sirius it was action. Something he could do, control, and it banished, just for a night, the suffocating feeling of helplessness that the house and the Order made him feel.

So, the dog and the wolf would curl up together for warmth or pace the spacious room together each full moon. It was, Sirius reflected bitterly, just like old times. Except it was just the two of them, no small rat scurrying between their legs, no antlered deer, trotting magnificently beside them. They were all they had. Each other.

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**Because I'm annoying and stubborn, I will ask you once again to review please. ^^**


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